Unwanted
by green.pepsi.cola
Summary: Mysterious new kid in town meets Z Boys. It was bound to happen from the beginning, yeah? They're in for an interesting surprise. Drama ensues. Big shocker.
1. Danger in Venice

DISCLAIMER: Lords of Dogtown does not belong to me

**Unwanted**

DISCLAIMER: Lords of Dogtown does not belong to me. Only Danger does.

--I'll always remember  
It was late afternoon  
It lasted forever  
And ended so soon  
--

_Chapter 1: Danger in Venice_

She sat with the whiskey bottle wrapped in brown paper pressed up to her lips, deep in thought. She had come so far, and yet it felt as if she'd gone nowhere. From Oklahoma to California with a plain lime green and hot pink surfboard strapped to her back, a switchblade and very little money in her pocket. On top of that, she'd just spent her last bit on the bottle. She travelled alone, with only her random liquour bottle to keep her company and the clothes on her back to keep her warm, consisting of a pair of black boardshorts, neon green tanktop, black hoodie and hot pink and black striped armwarmers. She wasn't sponsored, she wasn't professional, she didn't even compete. Surfing was her way of letting go. And she could let go well, someone would later tell her. She'd seen some of the local guys from around here skate, walk, or drive by and glance her way, but no one had given her trouble. Perhaps it was because she quite resembled a boy herself, or at least she thought so. Her platinum blonde locks fell to her chin in ragged, razor-hacked straight pieces, her shocking green eyes pulsed with anger and determination, and the hoodie, well, it was good camoflouging for her un-boylike assets. Her hair always hung in her face, and her voice did not give her away, for she seldom used it.

On this particular summer morning, her back pressed into a pylon underneath a seedy-looking pier, she watched four surfers paddle out after being harassed by what looked like the older, more experienced riders for about an hour. It felt kind of odd watching them, like an intruder, but hey, outta sight, outta mind... for she was well hidden. She went un-noticed for a while, in silent watching of the younger group, but the silence was broken when to her horrendous luck, one of them spotted her. He wasn't anything special, not muscular nor very fit, buy scrawny, with blonde hair a bit longer than hers and a sharp-looking face. She got to her feet and made to walk away, maybe he had just glanced and didn't see anything. She began moving, but no such good luck became her. She was found out.

The kid marched up to her, grabbed a large handful of hair, and pulled back. Hard. "Oi!" She yelped. Her neck was straining as the kid looked into her face. She stared up into the blue cloudless sky, attempting to not give herself away. "What're you doin' here, dude?" He practically hissed, sizing her up. Mistaking her for a guy, she wagered. "Drinking. What does it look like?" She answered in a low voice. "Don't look like it. Looks like you're fixin' for a dip." After this she unknowingly gave herself away by way of realization of gender from the kid not by voice, but by the hoodie she had wrapped around herself unzipped sliding back to reveal her green tank top. It wasn't a great-for-hiding tank, spaghetti strapped with about two inches exposed of her flat abs at the bottom. It didn't help her situation any that the board shorts hung low on her waist. No guy dressed like that. Her secret was out. He released the death grip on her hair in mild surprise as she swung the bottle at him dangerously close to his head, close enough to make him let go but not close enough to actually hit him with it. She had no intention of having a visit with the local law enforcement of Venice, California for any reason, or any time soon.

A second boy clambered out of the waves, heading in their direction. She turned to leave, but the one she had conveniently met beforehand grabbed at her hood. This one looked as if he could do some damage to a person. Curly sun-streaked brown hair, muscular, a bit taller than she preferred... "Jay, who's this dude, you know 'im? I ain't never seen him around here before." This kid was a real winner, she thought, noting his slight Spanish accent as she was wheeled around. "Chick, Tony, and I don't know, she hasn't told me who she is. OR what she's doing here by herself, looking like a guy." Damn him, did he have to give her disguise away to every-freaking-one he knew?

"You don't need to know who I am, or what my business here is. All you need to know is that I love whiskey and surfing." She shot back, taking another swig of said preferred drink. By now the other two had made their way over. "What're you guys...?" One with long blonde hair, aquamarine-turquoise eyes and medium build stopped. "This girl here says she likes whiskey and surfing, Stace. You think we should let her rip and see what the real deal is?" Jay was asking. She used the opportunity of conversation between the supposed friends to glance at the other kid, the only one who hadn't spoken yet. Grungy brown shoulder length hair, brown eyes, skinny, short, grubby looking... not much to work with.

During the current conversation Jay had failed to keep a firm hold on the girl's hoodie, and she soundlessly walked away, real slowly. She had gotten about two feet when the muscular one, Tony, she thought it was, grabbed the back of her sweatshirt, not bothering to go for the hood. "Where do you think you're goin', chica? You love surfing so much, you're gonna surf. Get out there." Why was he sneering? He gave her a shove forward, but she caught herself before she endured any real embarrassment. "Fine." She stalked determinedly into the surf. After charging a couple of swells with no great disasters she paddled back toward shore.

"Damn girl, are you sponsored? What's your name anyway? You shredded those waves." The one she assumed was called Stacy was in awe as she stepped out of the foamy water and onto the sandy beach once more. "Danger. No, I'm not sponsored, and yes, I could kick your ass, so don't even try making fun of my name." She made herself clear. "Don't doubt that. I'm Sid." The short one said, offering his hand. She looked down at it, but didn't shake. She raised an eyebrow at him, and he dropped his grubby little hand. "Never mind him." Stacy half laughed. "You new around here? You gotta nice ass, by the way." Jay said stupidly. She punched him in the stomach. "Yeah, I am. You got nice abs, by the way." She shot back, walking away, hoodie over her wet clothes, surfboard tucked under her left arm. "See you guys 'round. Thanks for lettin' me surf. Good luck with that bruise, Jay." She smiled wickedly. "Hey!" Tony shouted as she rounded the corner. "There's a party at my house tonight, it'll be the only loud one on Cherry Street. If you wanna come." She looked back and made the peace sign. "Right on, I'll be there." She shouted back, and went on her way.


	2. Rebel Yell AKA the Party

**Unwanted**

_Chapter 2: Rebel Yell (AKA the Party)_

(DISCLAIMER: Once again, LoDt does not belong to me. I only own Danger)

(**A/N**: Sorry for the wait…so here you go, chapter 2. Chapter 3 in queue. By the way, I have no intention of sharing the winner of voting with you just yet in this chapter, so don't go jumping to any solid conclusions. Got it?)

--

You were all by yourself  
staring up at a deep gray sky  
I was changed

--

Danger came to the conclusion that she had nothing to lose; therefore she would go to Tony's supposed 'party'. She stashed her board in the back room of the house where a long-time friend was letting her keep it and went on her way to Cherry Street, (what kind of name was that for a street, anyway?) not quite drunk but not quite sober. As always with parties that might have become wild or out of hand, she brought her own liquor of choice, whiskey of course. Her short blonde hair flew freely, though it was rather messy for lack of brushing today. Having no idea how the people around here reacted to outsiders such as herself, she made it a point to borrow some clothes from her friend Martika and bring her along. Just in case she was shunned beyond belief. Martika was a normal 16 year old Puerto Rican girl, about 5'9 in height, three inches shorter than Danger herself, with waist-length blackish-brown hair streaked from long hours in the sun and gold-flecked hazel eyes. She had defined curves and a deep tan, with full lips nestled peacefully in a heart-shaped face along with a button nose. She had lent Danger a black and neon green splattered halter corset paired with wide-legged low riding bellbottoms and studded belt, black Vans, and topped off with a black fedora.

11:30 PM found Danger and Martika crossing the Alva's front lawn, headed toward the smoke-filled insides of the medium-average sized house. Seeking out Jay, Martika left Danger stranded by the door and whacked him upside the head, reprimanding him for treating her friend the way he did, but ended up being swept off her feet by a slightly drunken Tony. "Hey Chica Tika, where you been? You ain't been home in a while huh?" He half-slurred a bit unsteadily. "Well, not when you come over I'm not." She sounded a bit tipsy herself. Her accent was coming out more than usual. Tony toted her off somewhere, probably toward more beer. Immediately Danger picked out Jay's short blondish head from the sea of people and with a swig of her Jack Daniels Whiskey, made her way over to him. "Hey kid. You've got some lost looking groupies here." She said, startling him. "Really?" He hadn't caught onto the fact that she was referring to herself from earlier at the cove, maybe it was because the hat was pulled low over part of her face even as she took another gulp. She wondered where Martika went, but decided it didn't really matter since she knew most everybody there. Danger, on the other hand, only knew the four she had met at the beach.

"Not right now, stupid, at the beach earlier. Y'all are duller than a box of Crayola crayons 'round here, ya know that?" That was a total contradiction of the truth. She thought to herself, remembering how eventful her day had been. "Hey, I'm not the one who was watching people surf under a pier at 6:30 this morning or sleeping on a beach." (A true statement, if I ever heard one… This conversation business is tiring.) "Now why do you gotta assume….ok I slept on the beach. So sue me." She added when he raised an eyebrow at her. She sat down on a vacant couch, which was an astonishing feat seeing as unoccupied couches were scarce around here, she observed. "You don't gotta sleep on the beach, ya know that right?" Oh god. She'd been trying to avoid this part of the conversation. "I don't need no damn charity. I'll get my own place before I stay at someone else's." She shot back defensively. "With what, imaginary money? You don't even have a job." Another good point. "I have a job." She muttered indignantly. "Really? And what might that job be?" He didn't believe the story. "Okay so I don't have a job YET, but I'll get one! Tomorrow, there has to be some place around here that needs a help-out." Of course. "Because loads of people offer jobs to scrawny, homeless girls like you. I can think of a few, oh let's see, you could be a… prostitute, or… hmmm… the bag lady who carries all her stuff around in garbage bags, or a garbage collector, maybe you could be a stripper or a guitar player on the side of the street who collects money by singing horrible songs that force people to take pity on you so they give you a quarter… yep, bunches and bunches of opportunities, 'specially around here. Good luck with that one." She hated how true his statement was. She swigged the whiskey from her bottle, refusing to speak any more about the subject. And by about one in the morning she was drunk, had a contact high from all the smoke she'd inhaled at the party, and found herself curling up on the beach, by herself, and hopelessly cold.


	3. Dirty Dishes, Bad Swells and Empty Pools

DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything except what I created.

(**A/N**: My first P.O.V., yay! I am very excited to finally be writing my first P.O.V. chapter! I am so proud tear All the following chapters will be in point of view of some sort. Just thought it might be interesting to share what all the characters might be thinking.)

**Unwanted**

_Chapter 3: Dirty Dishes, Bad Swells and Empty Pools_

_Point of View - Danger_

Ok, so this isn't really what I had in mind when I decided I needed to get a job so long as I was staying here. But hey, it's a job, right? It has to be done, I guess. That doesn't mean I enjoy it, or that I'll be doing it for very long. Before you jump to conclusions, because I know what you're thinking, it's nothing like that; I'm definitely not that kind of girl. Now why would you think I'd do a thing like that? No, I'm a dish washer. At Venice Noodle Company, the only place that would hire me with no permanent address to speak of and no recommendations or references. What a crap job. But at least I don't have to wear a hairnet. Only a stupid logo hat and t-shirt. And huge, bright yellow rubber gloves that go up to my elbows. So many people have mistaken me for a guy today it is not even funny anymore. There are defining things that should not allow me to be mistaken in that way. I mean, geez, the shirt isn't THAT baggy. Not to mention I'm kind of wearing a SKIRT. An ankle length brown skirt partially covered by an apron, but a skirt nonetheless. Once again, Martika to the rescue. I don't see any guys wearing skirts around here, do you?

Well anyway, I'm back here doing dishes now in my silly 'uniform', trying to scrounge up enough money to rent an apartment or a flat or even maybe a motel room, when that kid, Stacy, comes into the back. I'm silently praying 'God please don't let him recognize me' when low and behold, he does. And immediately starts laughing his head off, that is until I give him the dirtiest look I can muster. "What?" I snap. "Nothing, nothing, I just didn't know you worked here is all. As a dish washer." He erupts into giggles again. Suddenly I want nothing more than to smack him upside the head, but realize I'm holding a soapy plate and it probably wouldn't go over too well if I hit him with it. "And what do _you_ do? Must not be very important if you're standing back here making fun of me, smarty." I retort, wishing some genius would get on with it already and create a machine to do this washing dishes business.

_Point of View – Stacy_

I never expected to see her washing dishes in the back of Venice Noodle, but here she was in front of me, doing just that. It was hilarious. Her name is Danger and she works as a dish washer? That's a really sad contradiction. "I'm a Buser. Which is more than you can say, shorty. I gotta go." I say, patting her head like a cat or something. She's not short, only a few inches shorter than me I would guess, but hey, my job has a considerably more appealing ring to it than dishwasher. I'm no giant, but being at least six feet I'm kinda used to being taller than most, so it's weird the way we're close in height. She looks like she could just about hit me with the soapy plate she's holding, so I decide to leave her alone. I don't need to be unconscious and lose my job any time soon.

_Point of View - Martika_

I set her up with Randy for that job. I knew no one around here would hire her since she didn't have an address, and was refusing to let me clear out the spare room for her. Then I sent her over there, after suggesting about five other places she should check out first. I didn't want her to get suspicious of anything because if she knew I set this up she wouldn't try to take the job out of pride. That girl has the worst case of culture shock I've ever seen. Kinda like a lost tourist who is overwhelmed with the choice of souvenir shops and attractions to go to at Disneyworld. And also the worst pride of anyone I know. She'd just as soon sleep on the beach before she accepted anything from anyone, even her friends. Oh, wait I forgot, she's already done that. Last night. I would have let her stay here, after all I was letting her keep her board here and borrow my clothes, wasn't I? Well anyway now she's got a job. A crappy job which she probably hates and will hurt me for suggesting later, but still a job to make some kind of money, since she insists on finding a place of her own. I'm sure she can work at Zephyr too, but I doubt Skip would give her more than a dollar a week. He doesn't even pay Sid, which is also sad considering the ridiculous amount of work he does. But I guess whatever makes him feel like he fits in…

_Point of View – Jay_

She was at that party last night. Around one in the morning I lost her, she probably went back to the beach since she was refusing anyone's help except Martika's. She wouldn't even stay at her best friend's house. I swear that girl is almost as stubborn as me. Almost. Anyway, I went down to P.O.P. this morning, and the breaks were crappy. I'd never seen them so bad. I wonder if she skates, we could use another girl on the team… But anyway, two weekends ago we went to Del Mar for a skate competition, and I got second place, (wasn't it?) but Tony didn't. He kinda got into a fight. Stacy showed up, as an independent, I guess. So he touched the course, right? Just like almost everyone else. Anyway, after, a stupid official disqualified Stacy, even though he didn't do anything. Tony got mad and punched him, so he got disqualified too. In the end Stace got first place (if I, the author, remember correctly…) and lemme tell you Tony was more than pissed. Oh well. All the idiot adults in town are bugging out since there's been a drought lately, but none of us 'good-for-nothing hooligans' could give a shit cuz it just means we got a bunch of empty pools sitting around just waiting for us to skate 'em. Drought my ass. I love the drought!

_Point of View - Danger_

My shift ends at 4:00 and directly after work I'm on my way to Martika's when I'm ambushed by Jay, whom almost crashes into me, causing me to fall against the front of the building when I lose my footing trying to dodge him. Oh Joy. And I'm wearing that stupid t-shirt and hat too. I scowl at him, because he snorts and raises an eyebrow at me. "Hey, don't laugh at me. At least I HAVE a job. What do YOU do? Yeah, nothing, that's what I thought." I almost shout I'm so frustrated. He's still laughing. "If you don't shut up I'm gonna punch you again." I threaten. "Okay, okay, I'll stop. Now the next step is a house, or staying at someone else's place. Go to Martika's. She almost always has someone staying there, why don't you just let her help you? You know she would." I hate his reasoning. When will these people figure out that I don't need any help? Maybe I am being stubborn, but I've been on my own for four years and haven't needed any help from an outsider yet. I start walking in the direction of my best friend's house, but my dear stalker has other plans. "Where are you going?" Geez, why does he try so frigging hard? "Where do you think, numbskull? My uptown apartment? Martika's of course." "Wrong, you're coming to the pool with me and the team." He insists, dragging me in the direction of the nearest empty pool. "What pool? They're all empty. The drought? Jay? Are you even listening to me?" This boy is utterly infuriating. "No, I already tuned you out. And we're not going to the pool to _swim_; we're going to the pool to _skate._ You know, like on skateboards? So we don't need water. Just shut up and come." Duh. What was I thinking? Of course an empty pool, you dolt! I internally kick myself.

So ten minutes later we're sneaking into someone's back yard, or rather Jay is sneaking into someone's yard; I'm being dragged even if I don't wanna go. And there Tony and Sid and a bunch of other people are already assembled. I'm introduced to so many people I'm jumbling them in my head and I can barely match the name to the face. Peggy, Biniak, Red Dog, Shogo, Wentzle, Kathy, Blanca, PC… I can't even remember all of them. Some are skating, some aren't, people are screaming, tackling each other, sitting on the edge of the pool, on the brick wall separating the yard from the neighbors… and here I am standing stranded in the midst of it all with the most confused look I own covering my face. Finally I settle for sitting on the edge of the pool dazedly with my hat next to me as a random skater goes flying over top of me and I scream a glass-shattering scream that seems to rattle the windows of the large house… ok you caught me I'm being dramatic, but it was a little loud, because everyone is covering their ears. "Sorry for freaking you out, Dish Girl." Stacy's head pops up over the small hill in the lawn. "You idiot, what were you doing?!" I ask loudly. "New move…" He mumbles. "Wait, you're a dishwasher? I thought you were waitressing." Jay appears from the deep end of the pool where he has just stopped himself.

_Point of View – Stacy_

I didn't really mean to freak her out. Really I just couldn't stop but I found her kind of intriguing and I didn't want to seem like a total basketcase trying to find a suitable answer for her question and I didn't want it to seem like I couldn't skate well.


	4. Bother

DISCLAIMER: Not sure how much longer I'm gonna be able to remember to do this, but I remembered it this time around…

DISCLAIMER: Not sure how much longer I'm gonna be able to remember to do this, but I remembered it this time around… Anywho the song doesn't belong to me either.

(**A/N**: I know it's totally out of the blue, and I said I'd be using POV from now on, but I felt this chapter would be best told in songfic format… so here goes, excuse me if it totally ruins your reading experience. I also want it noted that this chapter contains a confused Danger thinking over a PAST relationship… note and emphasize PAST, it has nothing to do with any Z-boys. Also sorry for the angst, but hey, I'm a social life-deprived drama queen…)

**Unwanted**

_Chapter 4: Bother_

_Wish I was too dead to cry  
__My self-affliction fades  
__Stones to throw at my creator  
__Masochists to which I cater_

Danger cried. She didn't know why she did it. She had a job, she had friends, she even had a place to stay, that is if she wasn't so stubborn and let Martika help her. Eventually she could get a place of her own and pay Martika back. Maybe it was because she didn't understand herself. Confusion, overwhelming. She just sat there and cried, cried until she couldn't cry anymore. People had been looking for her all day, but she had ignored them. She heard them call, call her name, call to her, beckon her back into reality. She couldn't let anyone see her. After only a week in Dogtown, she already had a small group of friends. No one could see her cry. They would totally think she was going soft. After only knowing the town residents for a very short period of time, that self-imposed, headstrong tough girl attitude of hers finally overwhelming her, something she couldn't keep inside anymore. So she cried, like a little girl with a scraped knee, only her situation was different, pinching on raw nerves.

_You don't need to bother;  
__I don't need to be  
__I'll keep slipping farther  
__But once I hold on,  
__I won't let go 'til it bleeds_

Blade clutched tightly in her hand, pressing against the smoothness of her ankle, drawing dark red blood slowly and painstakingly. An odd place to decide to do this, this beach where anyone could find her if they really wanted to. She carved the letters mindlessly, not really paying attention to the word her brain was subconsciously telling her to carve there. Her head cleared enough for her to register the four letter word when it was finished. It didn't read love, or hate, or ouch. It read, boldly and clearly, 'pain'. Four letters so meaningless to others, yet they meant the world to Danger. She thought about herself, a broken girl with a broken heart and a pierced soul. The words rang fresh in her head as she pressed the letters, tracing them with her index finger.

_Wish I was too dead to care  
__If indeed I cared at all  
__Never had a voice to protest  
__So you fed me shit to digest  
__I wish I had a reason;  
__My flaws are open season  
__For this, I gave up trying  
__One good turn deserves my dying_

The figure of shadow kissed her, only her silhouette she could see. The two shadows were black, as if only far off images seen from an uncaring person in the distance. The noticeably masculine form and kissed the feminine one with a sort of rough passion, and quickly broke away. In a flash of light the scene before her eyes morphed. Again a shadow form of herself was seen, only she was sitting on the floor. Again, the figure of the man – or boy, rather – was in the room, only he was standing, towering over her, with his back turned. Suddenly he whirled around. "I'm leaving you, Bella." The voice used her family pet name, a shortening of one of her middle names, Annabelle. He quickly removed himself from the tiny cramped New York apartment they occupied. The memories slipped away, fading out as her vision zoomed from the memory room.

_You don't need to bother;  
__I don't need to be  
__I'll keep slipping farther  
__But once I hold on,  
__I won't let go 'til it bleeds_

She'd been so stubborn, and didn't know why. She'd refused everyone's help, except for Martika's, and that had taken a lot of persuasion. Glancing down at the cuts, they would turn to scars eventually. She pressed down on the 'n', the first letter of his name, the searing pain forming like the burning of so many candles. The ocean rolled in and out melodically, the most melancholy noise in the entire city, if you could call it that. Almost mechanical.

_Wish I'd died instead of lived  
__A zombie hides my face  
__Shell forgotten with its memories  
__Diaries left with cryptic entries_

Someone was bound to find her soon. She knew they'd all been looking for her, she had heard their voices calling her name. When the time came that someone did actually find her, it ended up being Stacy. She didn't want to be found. She pressed her back against a pillar under the pier, trying to make herself less noticeable. She pulled her knees up to her chest, tucking her head into her knees with her arms wrapped around them. Maybe he wouldn't notice. The blood was still dripping from her nearly fresh wounds, staining the sand a deep crimson. She wasn't crying anymore. Her tear ducts were dry. She waited till he passed, before jumping up and running in the other direction, down the beach. Unfortunately for her, people had been searching it for her, and she ran smack into a bewildered Tony.

_And you don't need to bother;  
__I don't need to be  
__(I don't need to be)  
__I'll keep slipping farther  
__But once I hold on,  
__I won't let go 'til it bleeds_

Turning around to run once more, she crashed into Jay. "What is wrong with you today? Crying, sitting on beaches, hiding under piers, running from all of us… bleeding, what did you do?" He listed most of her recent activities, if you could call them that. "Nothing." She protested, trying to wriggle away from the two, but found she was surrounded by a few people. Finally she gave up completely, sitting down in the sand on the beach rocking back and forth hugging her knees. "OK. Everyone move. Go on with your lives, let me through, damnit!" She heard Stacy making his way through the small crowd. "Geez, we'll see you all later, I swear everything will be fine." Relief flooded over her. Over the course of a seemingly short week, Danger found herself becoming closest with Stacy, maybe it was because he seemed to understand her or something. It was a strange pull that had sort of drawn them together. Call it fate, but they really connected on what Danger would later call a higher level. The blonde helped her up, leading her away from the crowd, muttering random things to random people while passing.

_(You)  
You don't need to bother;  
__I don't need to be  
__(I don't need to be)  
__I'll keep slipping farther  
__But once I hold on  
__(Once I hold on)...  
__I'll never live down my deceit_

30 minutes later Danger's problems were beginning to unravel, pouring out of her mouth and running through Stacy's head like an overloaded freight train. The ex-boyfriend, problems with family, death of family members, self-mutilation… the list rambled on and on. This girl needed a full-blast psychiatrist. Mostly he just nodded and 'mhmm'ed at the appropriate points, but it was comforting for her to finally get all that out. They had been sitting in his living room. She now felt confident enough to explain the current situation. The cuts on her ankle were not exceedingly deep, just a little rough of course, but that was expected. She surrendered her razor to Stacy, whom tossed it in the trash and made her promise not to do anything of that sort again because no one around there could make it without her before cleaning the sand out with peroxide and wrapping the wounds with a cloth athletic bandage left over from a previous skate-related injury. He kissed the bridge of her nose, a bad habit formed recently and they went hand in hand out to his car, making their way to Zephyr in a comfortable, soothing silence.

--

_Catching a pattern here? Well I know I am, but of course that's to be expected seeing as I'm writing this so I have a vague idea of what I want to happen._

_PC_

_P.S. Don't worry, xHappyHardcorex, you'll be in here soon enough… like in the next chapter. Yeah. The next one, promise. But see, there's a problem because to write you in I'd need to know vaguely what you looked like, unless you don't mind me making that up._


	5. I Just Want Us To Be

DISCLAIMER: Still only own original charries…

DISCLAIMER: Still only own original charries…and face it, Becky, you too! Cuz after all I wrote you in. Therefore I own you! I do not own 'Ode to Billie Joe', that's Bobbie Gentry's, or any other lyrics I may use. I don't own Erin, either. Erin owns Erin.

(**A/N**: Ok Erin you're in this one like I promised and I'll get you in as much as possible cuz you are my best reviewer in my small circle of reviewers, so I'll try to give you more than a few bit parts, and who knows, you might even turn into a main character!)

**Unwanted**

_Chapter 5: I Just Want Us To Be_

--

'Until you're safe and sound  
Until you're safe and sound  
There's beauty in release  
There's no one left to please  
But you and me'

- Sheryl Crow

--

_Point of View – No One_

_And Mama said to me "Child, what's happened to your appetite?"  
__"I've been cookin' all morning and you haven't touched a single bite"  
__"That nice young preacher, Brother Taylor, dropped by today"  
__"Said he'd be pleased to have dinner on Sunday, oh, by the way"  
__"He said he saw a girl that looked a lot like you up on Choctaw Ridge"  
__"And she and Billie Joe was throwing somethin' off the Tallahatchie Bridge"_

_It was late at night. Bobbie Gentry's haunting voice blasted over the speakers, gently rocking the tiny car stopped at a red light. Danger sat in a little red Camaro with her Mother, both were singing wildly. It was a sad song, but they found themselves belting it out without a care in the world, disregarding all the stares they were collecting from the people on the streets as they rolled through their hometown of Tulsa. Danger was about ten years old and loved her mother dearly. It was just her and Mama', no father to bother them. Mother and daughter loved each other dearly. They were returning from a trip, which they had taken to Southern California. Danger's new surfboard lay across the back seat, with a few pieces of random clothing scattered haphazardly. They didn't get the chance to do this very often, but when they did they jumped in the car with whatever they could stuff into the trunk and had as much fun as physically possible. Her mother had taught her to surf when she was very little; she practically grew up doing it. _

_A year has come 'n' gone since we heard the news 'bout Billie Joe  
__And Brother married Becky Thompson; they bought a store in Tupelo  
__There was a virus going 'round, Papa caught it and he died last spring  
__And now Mama doesn't seem to wanna do much of anything  
__And me, I spend a lot of time pickin' flowers up on Choctaw Ridge  
__And drop them into the muddy water off the Tallahatchie Bridge_

_Point of View - Martika_

A tear slid out from under Danger's left eyelid as her sleeping form whimpered and rolled over in bed. Yes, bed. Let me explain better. She finally caved and agreed to stay with me. I lent her the bed across from me in my small one bedroom house, the place of so many parties I can't even count. I've been up all night. I couldn't sleep for some reason, and it wasn't Danger's fault. It had nothing to do with her. I was thinking about Tony.

I'd gone with him before, but we broke it off because we decided to be 'just friends'. Really he just didn't want me anymore. He wanted Blanca. I'd hung on to his every word, let him drag me around to every skate competition, every party, every pool session our entire relationship. I let him take me to bed. I'd say that's one of the biggest mistakes I've carried in my life. I take that back. It was the biggest mistake I'd ever made. He had said he loved me, I had believed him.

Then last week I went to that party at his house with Danger after she begged me. I didn't wanna go, I didn't know if I could take seeing him again. Especially because I knew how he got at those parties. I guess I shouldn't have gone when I was already tipsy like I was, because I ended up in a closet with him. We didn't do anything, I listened to his drunken confessions, about things like how he still loved me, blah blah blah, and I knew it was the liquor talking, but somehow I believed he meant it. I believed it right up until I realized it was all lies, because as soon as we were out of that closet he was all over Blanca. Psh. Yeah right. I ended up storming out, leaving Danger there alone, but she was a big girl and could take care of herself.

On my way home I ran across my longtime friend Erin. I've known her forever. She's helped me sort things out before, and my problem this time with Tony was no different. She was always so calm, how could she always be so dang calm? I have the patience of an infuriated goat. God that sounds sucky. So she let me stay at her place that night. I could've gone home, but I didn't.

_Point of View – Danger_

My dream scene changed. It was the day my mother was killed. They rushed her to the hospital, but it had been too late. She was dead before they arrived. We had been in New York, in the Bronx, on spring break, visiting old family friends. I was thirteen. The car crapped out on us again, so we were walking back to Emilie's house, the closest one we had been visiting. I heard shots in the distance. Probably gang warfare, I figured. We didn't realize how close they were. Suddenly someone flew around the corner at full speed, running at us. People were behind him. They shot. My mother happened to be right in front of the guy, he had dodged between us and in front of her. The bullet hit her, and they all scattered. A witness at a coffee shop called the cops. The cops took forever to get there, like they didn't care. The paramedics gave her plasma, loaded her into the truck, let me come with them inside, even if it was against procedure, there was really nothing else they could do with me.

She passed on before the ambulance arrived. As soon as they stopped at the hospital and she was pronounced dead, I ran. I ran as far as my long thirteen-year-old legs would carry me. They put me on the missing child list, I went back to our car, got our money from all my mom's secret hiding places, and got on a bus. I remembered going as far as the bus could go on my 200. Ended up somewhere in Ohio. I only kept a little for other things. I had a job sweeping up in a factory in Indiana by the time I was fourteen, gained enough courage and money to get to Tulsa, where my older sister Gina, who was 25, lived.

I was remembering now the day I arrived in Dogtown, about two weeks ago. Everyone stared; I guess everyone knows everyone around here. It could also have been because I had a boy's haircut, but was dressed like a girl, with my sweatshirt wrapped around my waist. I probably looked funny, with my whiskey bottle clutched in my hand. Finally the stares were beginning to get to me so I put the hoodie on and flipped the hood up. Everywhere I saw groups of boys skating and such, and I ended up at the beach. And that was how I got here. You probably expected me to tell you the reason I was here was because I killed someone or something equally outrageous. Well, sorry to disappoint you but that's the honest truth.

_Point of View – Stacy_

I don't really know if I like her as more than a friend, but I guess we'll find out sooner or later, hopefully later. She's only been her for two weeks, what could I possibly know about her right? Sometimes I get carried away, and wish I wasn't a guy. I don't know why. You probably think I'm insane to say that. I hate parties, you know that? I know, I know, random, but hey I can't help it I really am trying here. No, I don't think I like her in that way. That's not true. I lie to myself all the time, but I never believe me. Hmm… maybe I should talk to someone… no. That would just confuse me more. I think Jay likes that Becky girl, he's been harassing her more than usual lately…

_Point of View – Martika_

Eventually I drifted off, at about two in the morning, which was really stupid cuz I had to work at 7:00 anyway. That girl… you know it took me three hours and an entire fifth of Jack Daniels (thanks a lot Jay) to persuade her to stay here in one of the spare beds? My friend Becky is already staying in one of them. You probably don't know Becky, but she's one of the awesomest people on the face of the planet. In a way I kind of envy her. A lot of people like her, coughjaycough, and she's a total hippie.

She's about 5'5, her almond eyes are a beautiful sparkling blue-green, her hair a slightly wavy reddish-blonde, and her personality is the total opposite of mine. Now you see why I envy her? She's beautiful, smart, everyone likes her, and it's physically impossible to get mad at her. I look so boring that you could lose me in a sea of other Hispanic people. I don't want to get up…

_Point of View – Becky_

I don't think Danger remembers me, but we've met once before. Actually we didn't really meet; I stopped and talked to her one day at the record store. I was looking for some Hendrix music, and she was standing next to the rack looking at a Janis Joplin record. We only said hi and went our separate ways, but it was sort of a meeting.

That Jay, he's something else. He does a lot of stupid things. I watched him at Del Mar, though, a couple weeks ago and ya know what? He's not half bad. I was there as an independent. Obviously someone there thought I had talent, cuz I got 2nd in the women's division, right after some chick named Peggy. She was good too. She had a Zephyr shirt on, so I guess she's got more skills than me since she's actually on a competition team. I wish I was on a comp team… I also wish that Jay would leave me alone for a bit and lay off the harassment act. I don't understand him, he's always criticizing me and it gets on my nerves. I think I need to go to Zephyr tomorrow for a new surfboard, if that idiot who owns it isn't being an ass like he usually is…

_Point of View – Danger_

I need to go to Zephyr tomorrow for a skateboard… lord knows I'll probably hurt myself trying to remember how to ride one of those things, but it's something to keep me occupied when the surf is crap. Which has been increasingly bad lately. Damn.

--

_That's all for now._

_(__**A/N**__ #2: So there's a bit of some other character's lives in this chapter because I was getting tired of just writing about our dear angsty friend Danger for chapters on end. By the way in a previous chapter I know I mentioned that Martika wanted to clear out the spare room for Danger, but it has come to my attention that I was going to have Martika live in a small one bedroom house so my mistake, there is no spare room.) _

_Peace out_

_Pepsi-Cola _


	6. Promises, Jobs and Psychiatrists

Disclaimer: Don't own lodt or anything you recognize or Erin.

(**A/N**: Finally, here it is. Just started school so updates may be few and far between but I promise not to drop it completely. Mostly because I love it so much. Also because a large mob of people with sporks would chase me down and hurt me. EEP! Dedicated to Dale S, a friend.)

**Unwanted**

_Chapter 6: Broken Promise, Another Job and a Psychiatrist_

_Point of View – Stacy_

She promised to stop cutting herself. She promised. Why is she doing it again?

_Point of View – Martika_

She's not telling me. There's something she isn't telling me. I don't know what it is, but I have an idea. I think she's hurting herself. She IS under a lot of stress, I guess, not being over her mother and with her father looking for her all over the entire state of New York. She told me she has to get another job if she's gonna be able to get her own place. I wonder if she's going to work at the lamp factory. She shouldn't have to work two jobs. She can stay with me for as long as she needs. Actually, what she needs is to stop working altogether and go to school like a normal 16 year old. I'm 19. I should be the one working two jobs, not Danger. I need to find out what's wrong. Stacy knows, I'm sure. I'll have to get it out of him. If I have to bug him to death I will.

_Point of View - Jay_

New girl cuts. I thought Stacy got her to swear she wouldn't, but she does. I've seen. She was behind Venice Noodle with a piece of glass. I think that girl's got too many problems. I wonder where Becky is…?

_Point of View – Becky_

I don't know what's up with that Danger girl, but something is wrong. You're probably wondering why I'm hiding out behind the elementary school. I have one answer for you, and it consists of three VERY important but extremely inconvenient, annoying letters: j-a-y. Argh, I'm going out of my mind with craziness...

_Point of View – Danger_

Oh. Crap. I think Jay just saw me cutting. I didn't mean to, but I can't help it. It makes me feel so much better, you don't even know. Maybe I'm just insane, I don't know. I think I need a psychiatrist. There is too much pressure. I have to get another job on top my dishwashing one. Probably at a factory or a bar. What kind of bar would hire me? This is going to be harder than I thought. Especially with my dad looking for me. He's all the way in New York, but someone might have told him where I was going. I need to surf, I need to let go. I need to cut. It's my relief.

"Randy, I need to leave. I have to do some things."

"Go ahead, it's slow. We're closing early today. Can you get here early tomorrow? Like around 10:00? It's supposed to be busy."

"Yeah, I can make it. See you tomorrow."

"Be careful, kid."

I'm going to Zephyr. Thank god I got out early today, there are mid-day waves and I need a new board. I walk inside, there's no one in there. Maybe I… no, I'm not that stupid.

"HELLO? ANYBODY HOME?! Potential customer out here…" I shout.

Skip trips out of a back room, drunker than a skunk. If that man is ever sober, call city hall. Do we have a city hall?

"What do you want?"

"If you wanna keep your crap you probably shouldn't leave it all out here with no one to watch it. I coulda stolen something and you'dve never noticed. I need a board."

"Uh… okay…"

"Lemme make it easier for you, you stupid alcoholic. I want this one." I say, grabbing a black board off the third shelf to my right.

"Well, why didn't you say so? What'd you do to your other one?"

"That's really none of your business. How much is the damn board before I up and leave for that shop down the street?"

"Uh… 30 bucks." "I've only got 15."

"I don't do loans."

"Oh come on, I'll clean the shop for you Friday."

"Fine, fine. 15 dollar loan, but you better as hell show up or I'm taking it back."

"Sure you will." I say, handing him the money from my pocket. He'll be too drunk to remember this even tomorrow.

_Point of View – Martika_

Well I guess I won't have to beat it out of him. That kid is really sensible. It must get annoying to always have to be the mature, responsible one. We're going to find her. I think there's a psychiatrist working in Santa Monica or maybe L.A.

_Point of View – Sid_

I have no idea what is going on. I've heard things about her. That's all I know.

_Point of View - Skip_

We're going to Huntington this weekend; I need to sell some boards. The boys are getting offers, the shop is going downhill, Billy, Chino, Steczyk, and Montoya keep ditching it for surfing. That little blonde haired chick has been hanging around lately. She's a bit different. Just bought a board a bit ago. Maybe SHE skates…

_Point of View – Danger_

I go down to the beach and head toward the water, letting myself be lulled by the sound and the breeze blowing off the salty ocean. I guess it's a good thing I wore my board shorts to work this morning. Suddenly I want to listen to Pink Floyd. Wish You Were Here keeps playing over and over in my head, getting mixed up with Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix, and Bob Marley. I spot Stacy sitting there on the sand by himself, looks like he's watching me. Well I guess I'll just have to show off a bit.

_Point of View – Stacy_

I guess I'm gonna go and try to find Danger. I should probably talk to her before we go and drag her to a psychiatrist. We could just be imagining this.

She's at the beach. Stopped by Zephyr. I honestly couldn't believe Skip remembered her, he was so damn drunk. I sit down in the sand and watch her. She seems angry, because she's usually better when she's mad or sad than when she's happy. She probably thinks I'm some kind of creepy stalker. I would think I was a creepy stalker if I was watching me. That made no sense.

--

_Pepsi-Cola_

_If the POV thing gets too annoying tell me so I can do something with the format._


	7. A Date, A Shower, and One Last Cut

Unwanted

(Disc.: I own only original characters. Erin still doesn't count.)

(**A/N**: I hate Geometry and Bio! They take up all my time! That's my excuse and I'm stickin' to it.

To David: Thank you for critiquing my work. I love you more than air. Without your review this story would not be as it is today.

To Erin: Don't worry, Jay will fall for you soon enough. You have a POV in this chapter! Be patient! Sorry if I took you a little ooc here but I'm trying, chick.

To Becky: Chica, if you're still reading this, you rock! You are loved very very much!)

**Unwanted**

_Chapter 7: A Date, a Shower, and One Last Cut_

_Point of View – No One _

She finally clambered out of the water, refreshed. She'd kind of been avoiding people lately, other than those involved in her jobs. She was back to cutting again, and with each cut becoming deeper and deeper, her problems increased 10 fold. Stacy tried to help, but he had had no real experience. He was determined to get her help, whether she thought she needed it or not.

_Point of View – Stacy_

I watch her walk out of the water, board tucked under her arm. Something is wrong; she'd been wearing a hoodie while surfing. She only did that when… Oh god. I really need to find a psychiatrist. I can't lose her just as I'm finally getting to know her. I'm getting offers to skate left and right, but all I want to do is help her. Screw skating right now. She's my top priority.

"Hey. Wanna go to the movies tonight? I know it's short notice but – "I begin, only to be cut off with the silencing of her hand over my mouth.

"Yes. I'd love to go. Just DON'T start rambling. What's on, anyway?"

She interrupts.

"Jaws." I mumble through her hand.

"Sorry, what was that? Oops…" She says, almost to herself, removing her hand from my face.

"I said 'Jaws' is on. At the Civic Centre."

"Oh, I wanna see that one."

"Good." I reach for her arm.

She pulls it away.

"Danger, what's wrong with your arm?" I ask, alarmed.

"Nothing. It's fine, I'm just cold. C'mon to Martika's with me so I can change." She avoids my gaze all the way.

We reach Martika's house and she bounds into another room. Martika offers me lemonade. 20 minutes later she's back in the room again, hair dry, wearing a black long sleeved shirt, a vibrant yellow tanktop over it and black bellbottoms with yellow flip-flops. Her eyes are lined with black, lids covered with iridescent yellow.

"Well we're off, Tika. See you later." She says, leading me out the door.

She flops down in the passenger seat, sighing deeply.

"What's been up with you lately? You seem… distant, stressed." I bring up my point again.

"I'm not depressed, if that's what you're pushing at. Let's just go, okay? We're gonna miss it." She's defending herself way too much to be 'just fine'.

_Point of View – Danger_

He suspects something, it's annoying. I don't want help! If I wanted help I would ask for it! I don't want any more charity than I already have.

"Stacy." I say suddenly.

"What?!" He asks, rather alarmed, jumping in his seat a little. Swerves a bit in the lane, but regains control quickly.

"You have to promise me something. Something important. Something so important, it could ruin your life if the promise is broken."

"What, what the heck is it already?!" A little impatient.

"You have to promise not to fall in love with me. Do it. Now, promise you won't fall in love with me. I'll end up hurting you. So come on, right now. Swear?"

"I don't know if I can do that."

"You have to. Say it!"

"I'm not saying it, because it isn't true." Why must he be difficult?

I give up for now. That's fine, if he won't do it then I'll have to get it through to him some other way. We continue on in silence. When we get to the civic center we head straight for the ticket booth and on to the concession stand. I sense that normally he would have just snuck in the side, but is trying to be what would be perceived as a 'proper' gentleman. Really I could care less. Dates don't all have to be romantic and perfect.

"We didn't have to do that the legal way. I wouldn't have cared if we snuck in." I want this noted.

"It's okay; I want this to be an actual date. I don't always do things the illegal way."

"Just usually, huh." He blushes.

"You're good at reading people. Usually the girls I date are over-predictable and follow the rules. You're different, but in a good way."

"That's what happens when you're a goody-goody, Stacy. You date other goody-goodies. I'm here to change that. Has the movie started yet?"

He checks his watch. I think he's the first person I've met who actually wears a watch around here.

"Five minutes til."

"Let's go in, then."

I link arms with him, carrying the popcorn bag in my other hand.

We find seats on the top, away from popcorn-throwers and such, the ones that usually inhibit the lower deck.

_Point of View – Becky_

HE FINALLY LEFT ME ALONE! He's run off after Erin now, I suppose. I'm not complaining, in fact she can have him. But I'm free of my torture! And good riddance. Gonna go party in the streets! Okay maybe I won't go that extreme, but I'll settle for a movie trip. 'Jaws' is on at the civic and I want to go see it. After three weeks of close to complete seclusion, I am rewarding myself. I'll even get popcorn. And candy. And pop. Okay, maybe not all of that. On second thought…

_Point of View – Erin_

Goin' to a parrrrtay… w00t! It's a Zephyr party, those are always fun. Especially with the ever-presence of a certain Z-Boy I've got my eye on, who's sure not to miss a single solitary party in Dogtown. That boy is fine! But I hope his mother's alright; I know she's got some issues to work out lately. Her boyfriend just dumped her I guess, and she's taking it really hard. Well, I'm off for a night of mindless indulgement. Oh shit, here we go… he's approaching me. Damn, why does that boy have to be so fine?

_Point of View – Jay_

I don't know what I ever saw in that Becky chick. Okay, so I know what I saw, I saw beautiful eyes, a beautiful smile, a beautiful body… I'm stopping now. I don't want to get smacked; chances are if I went any further you'd go right out and tell her all of this crap. Hey, I can't help it, I don't just surf the waves you know. I'm a guy, I surf the girls too, and it's not like it's that hard considering all the groupies chasing after me, er, I mean the _team._

_Point of View – Danger_

We left the Civic Centre (not before running into Becky momentarily) at around 8:00, and I had Stacy drive me immediately to Martika's. I kissed him goodbye on the cheek, insisting that he didn't come in. I headed straight for the shower, turning the water on. I shimmied down into my swimsuit, which I had conveniently worn underneath my clothes, and let the scalding water flow over me freely. This was really hard to handle, this feeling I felt. Could it really be love? I'd never truly loved anyone before. I stood in the shower thinking, just letting the scalding water blotch my arms red. Quickly I turned the water off, toweled off, and reached for the nearest sharp object, which happened to be a safety pin.

Only this time I cut too deep. I fell into a sleep on my bed.

I don't know what happened after that.

All I know I was told afterward.


	8. Scarred, the Sweet Escape, and Comfort

(Disc

(Disc.: No. Just no.)

(A/N: A new character is introduced in this chapter. May be a tad bit confusing at first. Thoughts on her would be appreciated. Also character development help would be greatly accepted. I know the POVs have a certain BAM!-in-your-face fast paced feel to them, and I'm sorry, but this chapter isn't very progressive. Not much happens, so bear with me for a bit.)

**Unwanted**

_Chapter 8: Scarred, the Sweet Escape, and Comfort_

_Point of View – Mare_

Hey, I'm Mare. Mare Magnussen. You probably haven't heard of me. Well, I'm sixteen, about 5'8, long wispy platinum hair, mysterious eyes. I've been in and out of hospitals and girls' homes since I was 9. I'm anorexic, but I'm getting better. That's what the doctors tell me. I have way too many problems, you do not want to sit through listening to all of them, and the list is extensive.

Right now I'm being treated for anorexia nervosa, depression, and bipolar disorder. And I'm a bisexual. People say I'm 'sick'. They're the sick ones. I'm being moved to another home soon, this is just temporary. I ran away from the last one, and then I landed here after I collapsed at a party. I was getting drunk with some old friends in Dogtown and then they ditched me. So I pretty much drank my guts out and then I passed out on a couch. When I woke up I was here, alone, in this room. Now I've been here for a week. I don't know where I'll be sent, but hopefully it's easy to escape from. Oh wait, they've just brought a new girl in, this could be interesting…

_Point of View - Danger_

I'm on suicide watch for 8 weeks. 16 months of psychological evaluation, and that's just the beginning. You know what? I figured something out. Cutting wasn't helping me. It was superficially altering my sense of emotional pain to cope by replacing it with physical pain. Temporarily. I'm being sent to a girls' home. Temporarily. I'm begging the doctor for a phone, I want to call Stacy. I'm handed one. I've got two minutes.

"Stacy." I say into the receiver, tears streaming down my face.

"Who is this – Danger? Where are you!?" He's practically screaming.

"I'm - I'm at the h-h-hospital, Santa Monica Grace. I need you to come here right now, they want to put me in a home… bring Jay. Please. I need to talk to both of you. Hurry."

"Wait, Danger, what happened – "My line cuts short.

_Point of View – Stacy_

I'm freaking out right now. Jay, where's Jay, I need to find Jay RIGHT NOW.

"Skip, is Jay here?! Where is he, Skip? Danger's in the hospital, they want to put her in a girls' home, where the fuck is Jay?!" I shout, and Skip is staring at me like I've got legs sprouting from my sides.

"He's not here man, he's at P.O.P." Skip answers calmly, and I don't know how he can be so calm when Danger is in the hospital. My Danger, my – wait, she's not mine. At least not yet. Today is the day, I'm asking her today. I'm not going to lose her again.

_Point of View – Danger_

A few minutes ago I met Mare. She's this girl in the hospital bed next to mine. She's pretty, only the skin under her eyes looks bruised badly, and her eyes are sunken in a little bit. She's really skinny; the doctors told me she had anorexia. She overheard my conversation with Stacy.

"Is Stacy your sister?" She asked, making me jump and smile a little at her mistake, she startles me.

"No – "I stop to sniffle and wipe my eyes on my arm, smudging my mascara and eyeliner.

"Stacy's my… well he's a friend. Stacy Peralta. He's a skateboarder." I answer.

"Do you like him? It almost sounded like you were gonna say he was your boyfriend or something."

I snort. "Hah! I wish."

"Everything will happen in due time." She answers. "Well, I'm going to sleep now. Nice meeting you."

She rolls over onto her other side.

_Point of View – Jay_

The sun's setting, and I'm watching. I never really… watch… the sunset. I just don't ever stop. I don't stop to think. Ever. I think Stacy's over there… All this stuff with my mom lately has been driving me crazy. I need to start thinking one of these days.

_Point of View – Danger_

It's 6:30 PM, and still no sign of Stacy. The doctor told me I'm going to have scars on my arms, possibly for the rest of my life. I am NOT staying here, and I am NOT going to a girls' home. I'm running away, tonight maybe, and I want to take Mare with me, just because she looks like she's been through enough. I can identify with her, y'know?

_Point of View – Stacy_

I'm finally at the hospital, dragging Jay behind me. I guess I sort of forgot to tell him what was going on, but… I just wanna see Danger. He'll find out eventually. I'm asking about her at the front desk. She's in room 146 E on the 5th floor. Why do hospitals insist on having 20 million floors? An elevator. I completely forgot about an elevator. Most public places have elevators, right? Okay, I think I found the room. Now I'm just afraid to go in. I hate hospitals. I hate the IVs, I hate the depressing atmosphere. I'm dreading this more, now that I can think straight.

_Point of View – Jay_

I am so out of it right now it is not even funny. One minute I was sitting on the beach, thinking, and then I was being dragged along beside Stacy, a grand mess himself. Now we're at a hospital, and I _still _have no idea what's happening. The dope almost forgot to use the elevator. I have a strange feeling this has something to do with Danger, because he's hesitating to go in. Then again, Stacy always hesitates; I guess it comes from being such a goody-two-shoes to a point. I'm going in now; I'm not waiting out here forever while he fights with himself on whether or not to go see her. I pull him forcefully into the room by the wrist, lightly shoving him toward her, which is no easy task, Stacy is nearly a giant. He's at least a head taller than me. I never want that dude to fall on me, ever. It's the push that he needs, sometimes it's best to just decide certain things for him. But now back to me.

Sitting in a chair next to Danger's bed, I'm thinking about how most people think I'm stupid because I don't usually go to school. It's like they all expect me to run out and join a gang. It's really annoying, I'm not stupid. I just don't like authority, and that includes sitting in a series of boring little rooms for six hours daily, listening to people that consider themselves teachers drone on and on about shit like World War II. What the fuck do I care about WWII? It's over. I guess I just don't see the point. It's the same with cops, they all think they're something special and everyone's afraid of them because they carry guns and a pair of handcuffs, but they're not the least bit intimidating. After all, who's to say any old person couldn't go to a little 'off shop' and get a pair of fucking plastic handcuffs?

God I hate hospitals.

_Point of View - Danger_

I'm sitting on the edge of my hospital bed and Stacy's arms are around me. The IV in my arm is straining to stay in.

"Get me outta here…" I whisper, and I'm starting to cry.

Stacy's holding my head to his chest, and now I'm sobbing. I glance over at Mare as her magnificent aquamarine eyes flutter open, rosy lips parting.

"Don't cry, baby, I'll try… I'll try. I'll come for you tonight; I'll bring you some clothes." Stacy is saying.

"What about her?" I ask, glancing at my newly found friend.

She's staring at me and Stacy with a sympathetic look, kind of sentimental, and I know I have to get her out of here, before she whithers away like a dying rose.

"I'll see what we can do, Dany. I'll see." Stacy promises.

By now I notice that Jay is talking to Mare, real quiet-like, perched on his haunches in a chair next to her bed. But it doesn't seem like he's being perverted, he actually seems almost like a real person right now. Stacy's whispering into my ear, but I'm too wrapped up in Mare and Jay's conversation. She's giggling. That's good, right? I hope so.

_Point of View - Mare_

So this Jay kid is pretty damn interesting. He's in love with Danger, and she doesn't even know. So he chases other girls around to forget about her. She's in love with his best friend, Stacy his name is, and Jay's totally jealous. He takes care of his mother. I remember my father 'taking care' of my mother. He 'helped' her die, he poisoned her. He killed her. She only had pneumonia, and then he went and fed her rat poison to 'put her out of her misery'. Then he shot himself in the head. It was horrible. I watched from my parents' closet. I was only nine.

None of my relatives wanted me, so I went to a girls' home. It was horrible. I stopped eating. Well, it got me out of the girls' home, and right into the hospital. Soon they told me I was 'better', so I went back into the girls' home. I hated it there. They watched us bathe, to make sure we didn't hurt ourselves. We took sleeping pills at night so they didn't have to deal with us. They told me I was 'evil' because I didn't only like boys. That's about when the depression set in, and I tried to kill myself. I know better now. Suicide watch is not fun. I was about thirteen when I figured out my preferences. They put me in this room just last night, when they brought Danger in. I guess they figured I could talk to her, her being here for extreme cutting and all, me having a past in this matter. I think the thing that bugs me the most about some people hating bi individuals is the fact that they think I'm in love with every girl my eyes land on. People won't look at me. After they figure out I'm not straight, they turn strange. They won't speak to me directly, and usually after they find out they stop talking to me.

But Danger didn't really seem to care. I told her, and she was cool with that. That kind of made me feel good. Then this kid, Jay, he didn't seem to mind either. Actually, the funny part is, he started teasing me about it. He was all like, 'So, can you make out with a girl and a guy at the same time?' Silly stuff like that. It's quite comical. I feel really sorry for him. I told him I'd go out with him. Thing is, I think I actually am quite attracted to him. He's not bad looking, and he seems nice enough. Although, looks were deceiving. I can't really be sure until I get to know him better, but he seems like generally a nice person. But what do I know, anyway? I think Danger and her friend Stacy are talking about running away. That kinda makes me feel bad for her. This Stacy kid really is in love with her. I want to go with them, but they'll never ask me. No one wants a good-for-nothing, damaged teenager to barge into their lives and ruin their peace and quiet.

_Point of View - Stacy_

Seeing Danger is killing me. She wants me to get her out of here. I'll try, I promise her. I hope I can pull through on this. Now she wants to help the other girl to get out too… I don't know how this is going to work. I guess I'll just have to go to the window, and maybe they can get out that way. God, this is so messed up… Jay seems to be hitting it off well with this Mare girl. She reminds me of a friend I used to have when I was little.

We went down south to Oklahoma to visit relatives. There was this feisty little girl next door to my grandparents' house. Her hair was in pigtails, and I thought she was so cute. I remember she was wearing a pink dress - a shift dress, I think it was called, I'm not so good with names - and she looked real pretty in it. She was beating on another little boy; one I assumed was her brother or something. I think that was my first 'crush'. We had so much fun that summer, we were almost always together. It was real sad, having to go back to my crappy little neighborhood in California. Everyone has this idea that California is some kind of mysterious wonderland where everyone is rich and owns three houses and six cars and five million little lapdogs. They don't even realize that there's a whole other part of California that no one likes to talk about, except the people who live there. It's so frustrating. Of course, everyone knows where Dogtown is, its reputation is so horrible, but that's not the point. Everyone assumes that because we aren't super-rich we are all drunkards and druggies, - partially true, I'll admit - but we're not all like that. I turned out okay. Sure, I'll have a beer or two now and then, because no one around here cards minors, but I'm not a raging alcoholic. I know what the alcohol does to you, I've seen it happen to my best friends, my role models, hell, even my own father was a self-professed wino who couldn't hold a steady job to save our lives. Mom mostly brings in the money. Still, I hate the social stigma that's put on us.

_Point of View - No One_

It was twelve o'clock midnight, and Danger and Mare were ready and rearing to go. They slowly and painfully pulled out the IV tubes and such, sitting anxiously on the edge of Mare's bed, the closest to the window. A few more minutes and there were Stacy and Jay. Danger slid the window open sullenly, taking the clothes handed to her by Stacy. No one spoke a word. As the girls each slipped on a pair of too-big pants, black t-shirts, and hoodies. Mare had a pair of green flip-flops, and Danger wore nothing on her feet. She hated shoes. Jay gave them each a black bandana, which they tied around their foreheads, and flipped their hoods up. Danger jumped onto the pegs on the back of Stacy's bicycle, and Mare clung to Jay's back for dear life as he sped away on his skateboard, carrying her like a koala.

"Hold on tight, I need my arms to skate." Jay instructed.

"Oh believe me, I am." Was all Mare could answer before she stifled a scream into Jay's shoulder as he swerved around some rocks.

Finally they reached Jay's house, where they would stay, and Stacy went home.

"See you tomorrow, babe. Meet me at the beach at five?" Stacy asked Danger, arms at her waist, hers around his shoulders.

"Yup, bright and early." She answered, as always, pressing her lips to Stacy's and sending him into a slight state of shock. That was the first time they kissed, and it was wonderful for both of them. She gave him one last peck as he went back down the stairs from the apartment.

"I'll go and tell 'Tika for ya, love. See you tomorrow!" He chimed, gaudily blowing her a kiss.

"Thanks, long-hair. Love ya." Danger closed the window back.

At that point Philaine wandered in from her bedroom, stumbling slightly. She was a tad bit tipsy.

"Jay, why are there - "She paused to count the girls and their recurring images -

"Six girls in our house?" She asked, bewildered.

"Mom, this is Danger, and this is Mare. They're going to stay with us a while until they get settled."

"Okay baby. Nice to meet you girls, you're always welcome here. I'm Philaine, Jay's mom. Excuse my slight drunkenness, I make killer tamales." She said, readjusting her white crochet bikini top and cabana skirt.

She pattered back into her room.

"Sorry 'bout my mom, she'll be back to normal in the morning… well, as normal as she can possibly be." Jay looked slightly ashamed, but he quickly hid his feelings. It was safer that way.

"Nah, don't worry about it, Jayboy, she's real sweet." Danger thumped him on the shoulder.

"Well, it's only midnight, you two wanna go out, or are you gonna stay here and sleep? The couch pulls out, by the way." Jay offered.

"I want to go and see the beach, but you feel free to go out, Jay. We don't need a babysitter, I suspect Danger knows her way around pretty well." Mare said, a genuine smile gracing her features.

"'Kay. Be careful, Danger. The last thing we need is for the police to show up here with ya at four in the mornin'." Jay mocked playfully.

"The pigs ain't gonna bother us, Jayboy, and you know it. It's you they'll be after, anyway, who the hell you tryin'a fool?" She mused.

"See ya later." They chimed in creepy unison, as they went their opposite directions.

And Mare did love the beach.


	9. Entertainment, Sunrise and Something New

(Disc

(Disc.: You know by now that I'm not trying to jack anyone's idea. This is, after all, a fan fiction, written by a fan for other fans. 'Bittersweet Symphony' lyrics belong to the Verve.)

(A/N: The author is faced with a dilemma. A dilemma of how to continue her story. So here goes, a put-it-together-as-she-goes-along chapter.)

**Unwanted**

_Chapter 9: Entertainment, a Surprise, and Something New_

'No change, I can change  
I can change, I can change  
But I'm here in my mold  
I am here in my mold  
But I'm a million different people  
From one day to the next  
I can't change my mold  
No, no, no, no, no'

_Point of View - Danger_

Mare and I stayed out all night, and in doing so, were already at the beach at five the next morning. The sun would be up in about an hour and fifteen minutes, and we had the perfect view. We were just sitting there, Mare and me, with a bottle of Pepsi (Wow - a non-alcoholic beverage! Shocking…) and a small AM radio. Well, I was sitting, anyway. Mare stood with her back against a dilapidated pillar, angrily attempting to manipulate the silver tinfoil-wrapped bunny ears and adjusting the dial of our secondhand little radio so as to get a station. Her frustration grew as station after fuzzy station whizzed by, there for one second and gone within the next, until finally she tossed it carelessly down onto the sand.

"Hey, hey! That's my only radio, be careful with that…" I protested as I fumbled for the rapidly-falling radio, missing it by a foot.

It landed with a soft thud and the bunny ears retracted into themselves.

"Ah what the hell. It was Skip's, anyway." I flopped down into the sand on my back.

_Point of View - No One_

"I wish I had a surf board…" Mare sighed boredly, examining her bitten-down nails.

She had her black t-shirt tied up in the middle of her stomach, exposing part of the nearly-transparent skin of her ribs and waist, the jeans sitting dangerously low on her hips. Her sweatshirt was shed, and Danger tied hers around herself like a make-shift skirt, zipping it up the front and tying the sleeves around her waist, stripping off the jeans once fully covered. Needless to say, it was a very short, very Danger-like piece of apparel.

"I have siblings, you know, two of them. Foal is three years older than me and Colt is 6 years younger. My family has an obsession with naming their kids after horses, can you tell? My cousin's name is Ponyboy, you know, after the S.E. Hinton novel character? I thought it was pretty cool." Mare prattled, bored out of her mind.

Both girls were silent now, staring at the horizon as if waiting for a miracle to occur.

A familiar loudmouthed blonde interrupted their comfortable silence, slicing through the early morning light abruptly.

Jay flopped down in the sand in front of Mare.

"Good morning, sunshine." He smirked slightly, brushing a piece of Mare's hair behind her ear for her.

Danger felt an odd sort of connection between Jay and Mare, as if they were related somehow. Not by blood or anything, but they seemed to have many similarities. They both had an odd way of thinking and both were hyper, yet semi-quiet at the same time. And once they made up their minds, neither of them could be swayed from their opinions. And Jay's future seemed as blurry as Mare's past.

Now they had to find another place to stay. Danger knew that she couldn't mooch off of Martika forever, but she felt bad for accepting Jay's offer to let them stay at his apartment. It was already small, and Jayboy's mother wasn't really there most of the time. She worked long hours, and when she wasn't working she was having a party. Often Jay was sent out to purchase liquor for the bashes, which ranged from small gatherings to all-out beer fests. He knew the guy that owned the party store down the street, which granted him access to alcohol almost 99 of the time.

_Point of View - Jay_

I was starting to get bored just sitting there. I stood up and brushed myself off, busying myself with antics - handstands, flips, cartwheels, etc., to the amusement of the chicks I was with. Really I was trying to distract myself from a recent fight I'd had with my mother's boyfriend, which had ultimately caused him to leave for the third time. I knew he'd be back, he's always back within the month, but I still felt bad. I've gotten pretty good at creating my own little facades over the years. People say things about me when they think I'm not paying attention, off in my own world, whatever, but I hear everything. Whether I'm zoned out or not, I am always aware of everyone around me. I don't seem like it, but I am. And I'm not as crazy as people think, either. I can actually be pretty mellow most of the time, but I find I have to keep up the antics just to get my friends to admit that they really are having a good time.

I guess it's before five this morning, since lover boy isn't here for Danger yet. I wonder what the hell he's doing right now...

'Guys, let's go bug Stacy out of bed." Jay suggested, swirling his arms around wildly.

_Point of View - Danger_

I really want to see Stacy; I want to find out how he feels about what happened earlier. The kiss, I mean, not the whole escaping-from-a-hospital-and-running away-to-the-beach thing. I know how it affected me, and I'd really like to know how he felt about it. We were supposed to meet him here at five, but if we beat him to his house it would save him a trip.

I agree with Jay and rise without a word, pulling Mare up by her outstretched hand.

We arrive unceremoniously at Stacy's low bedroom window and I tap softly on the glass with my fist. We watch as he rolls out of bed, hits the floor, and jumps up with a start. His long hair is sticking up in every which direction, he's sleeping in an old t-shirt and his boxers. I smirked slightly as he stumbled over to the screen-less window and opened it, staring out at them.

"What do you guys want? Oh shit, I was supposed to meet you wasn't I? What time is it?"

"Relax, Stacy. It's an hour earlier than you said you'd go to the beach. We just got tired of waiting." I giggle a bit at his silliness.

_Point of View - Stacy_

As I was quite rudely awakened this morning at four AM and literally fell out of bed, I somewhat regretted even going to sleep the night before. Why did I do that? I just left her on a beach with someone I hardly know. But I guess she knows Mare better than I do, so it's alright. For now.

It's an hour early, I know it, but I'm still wondering why. Go figure, antsy Jay and Danger couldn't wait an extra hour for me to come at the time that we had actually set up. Whatever. I ask them a question before rummaging around on the floor, attempting to find a clean pair of jeans under the pile of dirty items littering my floor. I really need to clean up in here. Some other time.

When I turn around, almost too quickly, I nearly knock Danger over. She's perched on my windowsill, legs dangling into my room. Jay and Mare are nowhere in sight, although they're probably sitting just outside the window, giggling insanely.

_Point of View - No One _

Danger took him by surprise, grabbing his face and kissing him deeply. She drew him closer, placing her hands on his sides; he put his hand on the back of her neck. Danger's tongue danced over his, flitting into his mouth, and he smiled slightly into their kiss. Danger released him and hopped into the room, grabbing his surfboard for him.

"Let's go?" She looked up at him; she had one leg perched on the window, poised to climb back out.

"Okay." Stacy sighed, following her out the window and closing it from the outside, skateboard under one arm, his head in the clouds.

_Point of View - Stacy_

That was a totally new experience for me. I've kissed before, but I've never been so surprised in my entire life. I'm really starting to like Danger. I've liked her from the beginning, of course, but you already knew that. Kathy, you say? Psh... Kathy who?

_Point of View - Mare_

Damn, finally I get to say something. I bet you were wondering what Jay and I were doing while Danger and Stacy were busy. No? Well I'll tell you anyway! Geesh... well for your prying information, we didn't do anything except talk. We went back to the beach and sat under the pier, just talking about everything and nothing. I told him about my parents; he told me about his mother and her boyfriend. I shared that my favourite food was sweet and sour chicken, and that I could eat with chopsticks; his was pulled pork sandwiches, and he could hold a fork with his toes. That was a little odd, but I guess we're all unique, and all of that sensitive psychology crap.

He told me that he always worried his mother wouldn't be able to pay the rent because of her factory job. That really hit home for me. I told him that I didn't know where my brothers were, and that I thought about them all of the time. He seems pretty understanding, but I don't really know if I can fully trust him yet. Trust is a big thing for me. I haven't really had anyone to trust lately, so I'm often suspicious when people are trying to get close to me. I just really don't want to get hurt again.

I shared my sexuality with him. Naturally, he didn't mind, being who he was. It's nice to have people who don't care about me being bi for a change. But I guess this IS the state of change, California. All about freedoms and being the epitome of cool, or whatever.

I completely expected his first question.

"So, you like dudes... and chicks, too? Cool. That's something new." It was a blunt statement, not a question.

I glared at him, because he knew very well that this was not the full extent of things. I don't know, maybe he's attracted to me or something.

_Point of View - Danger_

When we got back to the beach, the sun was beginning to rise. The orange sun peeked over the horizon of blue at us, edges blurring as it returned to our side of the earth after a night of lighting the other side of the world. It was breathtaking, like everything else in the world stopped existing for a few minutes. It reminded me of New York at night, how the glow of so many neon signs sometimes drowned out the sun as it set across the city line... I'd sometimes watch from rooftops to see if I could see the sun sinking below the horizon, but somehow it always managed to be just out of my sight, blocked by a building.

I really loved New York, but I am a hell of a lot more glad I came here.

California is amazing.


End file.
